


Plan Well-Laid

by Alethia



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad POV, Canon Era, House Party, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Porn, Porn Battle, Post-Canon, Underwater Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-15
Updated: 2009-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rolling Stone threw them a welcome home party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan Well-Laid

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the fictionalized characters in the HBO miniseries, _Generation Kill_ , as written by Ed Burns and David Simon and as portrayed by Alexander Skarsgard, Stark Sands, and others. It is a work of fiction ergo it never happened.
> 
> Written for Porn Battle VIII and can be found [here](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/10575.html?view=1655119#t1655119). Prompt was "underwater." Also posted [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/375299.html).

As a means of assuaging his liberal guilt—and perhaps in thanks for saving his miserable hide—Rolling Stone threw them a welcome home party. In someone's swanky LA pad while he was off hiding out in France or some shit like that. Complete with swill as far as the eye could see, in both alcoholic and female form. 

Manimal and Chaffin were _beside themselves_. Trombley was fast becoming their third musketeer. A shocker, that one. 

Brad was pretty sure Ray had passed out somewhere. Walt, too. Hadn't even been home a week and already Bravo Two-One Alpha had spiraled into depravity and degradation. This was what happened when they didn't have shit to blow up. 

Brad rested his head back against the Jacuzzi and sighed. The consolation was the house. For all his other faults, Rolling Stone had found them an appropriate den of iniquity, overlooking Los Angeles at night, perched just back from the edge of a hill. One good shake and it'd all come toppling down, but that was what rich fuckers got for too much money and too little common sense. Besides, it wasn't like LA had earthquakes. 

There was little room for a yard, so they'd situated the Jacuzzi down a lawsuit-worthy set of stairs, on a shelf just below the house. Both had incredible views, but the trees and the quietude made the Jacuzzi seem far-flung. 

After Brad's brief recon of the layout, he'd quickly appropriated it as his own. Not that anyone else had noticed, being too busy with the vapid, bottle-blond 'hos and all.

Brad heard someone approach long before he saw him—definitely a man and not even drunk, so two guesses who that'd be. 

Nate appeared around the curve of the stairs, spotted him, and shook his head. A grin slowly unfolded as he walked over. "Setting yourself apart in the midst of a party—impressive, given you chose to be here."

"Chose," Brad parroted and eyed Nate as he came into the circle of blue light cast by the Jacuzzi. He dressed casually in chinos and a black button-down that still looked too big.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Unless someone forced the Iceman to do something against his will."

"Poke's little woman can be surprisingly persuasive. I believe her words were, 'They need adult supervision, Brad.'"

"And she called you?"

"Her first mistake."

"Nice job supervising."

"I told those zit-crusted, whiskey tango, Special Ed rejects not to get arrested. What more does she want?"

"A bit more than that, I imagine."

Brad made a dismissive gesture. "I've done my duty for the night; my conscience is clear."

Nate grinned again, then breathed deep and looked out at the sea of lights below. "Yet here you stay," he murmured.

"Something to be said for the view," Brad said softly, watching Nate.

Nate looked down and met his eyes. The moment stretched. 

Brad finally broke it. "Didn't think you'd join us this fine evening. Out with the guys? You're crossing that officer-grunt divide, sir. Disrupting the natural order. Who knows what could happen?"

"I'm living dangerously," Nate said, dry.

Brad smirked at him. "I can see that." He motioned to the water swirling around him. "Coming?"

Nate's eyes dropped. Was that a flush stealing up his cheeks? Brad felt his smirk deepen.

"What's the matter, Captain? Shy?" Brad raised an eyebrow, throwing it down like a challenge to his masculinity, nothing Nate could resist.

Nate did not disappoint.

He laughed once. Then he kicked off his sandals as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing pale skin covering a too-thin frame. Brad sat back and watched, letting the jets massage his lower back as Nate stripped, Brad's own little private show. He wondered if he should start humming 'You Can Leave Your Hat On,' then decided against it. There was challenge and then there was mockery.

Besides, Nate didn't exactly have much to mock. Brad licked his lips and thought about scraping his teeth across the pelvic cut Nate revealed as he peeled off his pants.

Nate tossed said pants over a nearby chair, seemingly oblivious to Brad's continued admiration of him, all long and lean and clad only in black boxer-briefs. 

He would have to thank Rolling Stone for the party. Some gifts necessitated praise. 

Nate stepped into the water with a grunt. He quickly adjusted and sank all the way in with a pleased sigh that made Brad chuckle. At the sound, Nate's green eyes opened lazily. He looked almost drunk with contentment. 

"Enjoying yourself, sir?"

"I always forget what good ideas you have," Nate murmured. 

"I'll remind you next time you shoot down one of my brilliant plans."

Nate smiled, but it was off, too stilted, too forced, the muscles of his shoulders tensing. Brad flicked through what he'd said, but it wasn't anything—

Ahh, talk of the future. Of course.

"Don't twist yourself into knots on my account, sir," he said easily.

Nate's eyes flew to his, obviously surprised. "I'm sorry?"

"No need to apologize, either."

Nate blinked his pretty green eyes at him, skin flushed pink from the heat. At least, Brad thought it was the heat. Nate swallowed, licked those obscene, pink cocksucker lips of his. Brad thanked his foresight in turning on the jets, which currently obscured his half-hard cock.

"Apologize for what?" Nate asked slowly.

Brad turned to face him and noted the way Nate's gaze fell to his chest, then back up to meet his eyes again. His cock twitched, appreciative. He'd smirk, but it'd probably give the game away. 

"For leaving the Corps," he said simply.

The skin around Nate's eyes tightened, though he otherwise appeared unperturbed, just stared straight at him. Brad could still tell. 

"The guys will understand," he continued. "No need to act like we're your own personal Sword of Damocles... _Nate_."

That tension around Nate's eyes eased, as did the rest of him. He settled back against the tile, shaking his head and smiling a little, though there was no mirth behind it. "I should know better than to keep things from you."

"Of course you realize this as the door hits you on the way out. Fuckin' officers. Can't make a mistake just once."

"At least we're consistent," Nate joked. 

Brad allowed his smile to show through, dipping his head in acknowledgment. It would be a shame to lose Nate as an officer.

But then again...

"Given that I'm no longer under your command, we can fuck now, right?"

Nate's eyes went wide, mouth opening a little, either in shock or protest, Brad didn't know. He didn't wait to find out, though. Instead he slid over, got up in Nate's space, kind of nuzzling his jaw.

Nate breathed out, hard. "Brad..."

"No more of those pesky power dynamics that so conflict you," he murmured in Nate's ear. Then he nipped just below, at the soft spot where jaw met neck, then sucked, just the barest hint of pressure.

Nate shuddered all over. His hands went to Brad's chest and kind of slid over his skin. "It's not official and you're still in and—and— _fuck_ ," Nate said, apparently helpless at Brad's mouth on his skin.

That boded well.

Brad hmmed and sucked at his neck again. He slipped his hands over Nate's stomach, down to where he could tease at the edge of Nate's boxer-briefs. "You were saying," he prompted after nothing but silence for a few more of Nate's ragged breaths.

Nate turned his head; his eyes were glassy and very green. They shined with the light from the Jacuzzi. "This one of your brilliant ideas?" he asked, voice rough with want.

Brad's hand slid down to cup Nate's hard cock through the water and the fabric still covering him. "I can assure you of that, sir." Brad squeezed and Nate grunted and just gave in, thrusting into Brad's fist and leaning forward to lick at Brad's mouth. 

"I am assured," he mumbled against Brad's lips, arms coming around him to pull him close.

Brad kind of rolled on top of him, so much easier to do in water. His hand worked at Nate as they kissed, deep and wet. Brad was impressed with how quickly Nate got with the program. One moment he was holding himself back and the next he was throwing a leg over Brad's hip and thrusting into his fist. 

Brad pulled out of the kiss and couldn't help but grin. "Oh, the things I am gonna _do_."

Nate blinked a few times, focused on Brad...and summarily rolled his eyes. "Godfather was right. You are a cocky motherfucker."

"He said that about all of us. Besides, it's only cocky if you're not that good. I am _that good_ ," he declared. Then he pulled his hand off Nate's cock.

Nate made a pained sound, hips thrusting helplessly, disturbing the water and splashing some into his mouth. "Fuck, Brad," he panted. One might call it whining. Brad would tell him. Later.

For now he focused on getting rid of Nate's black boxer-briefs. He shucked his own briefs, too, sighing in relief when his cock was released from its confines. He was as hard as Nate, wanted just as much, but he ignored it in favor of getting as much of Nate as he could.

Nate pushed against Brad, trying to get some kind of leverage, trying to rub up against something, but Brad just held his hips in place with a tsk. "Oh, ye of little faith," he chided. 

Brad took a deep breath and sank underwater.

The swirling, hot water rushed over him, made his eyes feel tight, even when closed, but Brad pushed aside the discomfort and set about making Nate lose his shit. One hand had pinned Nate's hips down and the other now circled the base of his cock. It was easy to work from memory and feel, to open his mouth and suck at the head of Nate's cock, though a little trickier to keep from swallowing the whole damn Jacuzzi at the same time.

Nate jerked under his hands and mouth. 

It was a damn shame he couldn't see the look on Nate's face. Next time.

Brad sank his mouth down on Nate's cock, then back up, swirling his tongue and letting his fingers wander. Nate's hand found the back of his neck, gripping hard but not restricting his movement, more like needing something to anchor him. Brad could hear the noise Nate made even underwater; it sent a wave of heat straight down his spine. 

Fuck, he really needed to get Nate alone and naked for a few solid weeks and work through some of this pent-up _want_. 

His internal clock told him he'd reached his four minutes, though his lungs were just starting to protest. He pulled off anyway. Instead of surfacing, though, he trailed his tongue down to the base, angled his head, and blew out, little bubbles escaping right against Nate's cock.

Nate's hips bucked and Brad stopped rolling his balls to press him back down as he surfaced. Before he could even shake the water off his face, Nate was licking it from his lips, using the hand he still had on Brad's neck to fuse their mouths together. Brad felt little rivulets sliding along his cheeks, down to where Nate was intently sucking on his tongue. _Christ_. 

Nate ground up against him, shameless, and Brad grunted as the ache in his own cock registered again. He pulled his mouth away to take a breath and get his bearings. Nate tried to follow.

"Fucking hell. When did you become such a wanton whore for my cock?"

"Complaining?" Nate asked, incredulous. He curled around Brad's body, aligning their cocks and rubbing up against him. Water lapped at the edge of the Jacuzzi, not a little bit splashing over. 

Brad gripped the edge, bracing himself so Nate had something to work with. "Not fucking likely," he muttered as Nate moved. 

"Then shut the fuck up and get me off," Nate growled, bucking into him.

Well. Couldn't let that one go.

Brad let his arms go slack. They both sank a few inches until his weight pressed Nate hard onto the ledge of the Jacuzzi. 

Nate struggled for a moment, pinned. "What the fuck?" he protested, somewhat garbled by the water getting in his mouth.

Brad grinned wickedly. "As pleasurable as I find following your orders, I think the situation calls for a change in SOP."

"What?"

Brad slid back to stand in the middle, deepest part of the Jacuzzi, then pulled Nate along. To his credit, he didn't struggle.

He _did_ moan, hand going to his own cock. "Brad," he protested, stroking himself. 

Brad grabbed his wrist and squeezed, halting all movement until Nate looked up at him. "Turn over, Captain." He watched it impact in Nate's eyes, the meaning of the order, the fact that it _was_ an order.

And one that Nate followed, which was...just too hot for Brad to dwell on at the moment.

Nate gripped the side of the Jacuzzi, knees resting on the ledge. He looked back over his shoulder at Brad, eyebrow raised.

Brad had to close his eyes at the sight. Nate braced against the side of the Jacuzzi, water glittering all over him, backlit by LA at night. Fuck, that was gonna stick with him. 

Brad tugged on his own balls, then got control of himself and opened his eyes.

Nate still watched him, mouth and eyes dark. He saw Brad looking and licked his lips. 

Brad sank down, kissing along the stretch of Nate's back that was not underwater. His finger trailed down to press against Nate's opening as Brad scraped his bottom teeth up Nate's back.

Nate squirmed against his finger and made a soft sound. 

That was encouraging.

Brad pulled his finger away and trailed his hands from Nate's ass, up over his back, to his shoulders and along his arms. He gripped Nate's hands where they held onto the edge of the Jacuzzi. "Hands stay here," he breathed into Nate's ear. 

Nate nodded so Brad nipped at his earlobe in approval. He reversed his route along Nate's body, hands and mouth trailing along as he moved back down.

"There will be sex at some point, right?" Nate asked, voice shaking.

"Cheeky," Brad said to the small of Nate's back. He took a deep breath and slipped underwater once more. His fingers spread Nate, tongue flicking over his opening with little fanfare. 

Nate made some noise, his whole body trembling, pushing back against Brad's mouth. 

Brad hmmed and licked around and around, holding Nate as still as he could as he tongue-fucked him mercilessly. The movement and sounds made Brad's cock scream its displeasure, but he ignored that in favor of spearing Nate with his tongue the way he'd one day fuck him boneless.

Nate seemed all for this plan. Good to know they were in agreement.

Brad pressed a finger into Nate, sliding it in slowly, his tongue licking around where it disappeared into Nate's body.

Something that sounded very much like a sob reached his ears, vibrating through the water.

Brad surfaced to hear Nate sucking in a gasp, hands white-knuckling the side, all the muscles of his back standing out in stark relief. Brad pushed his finger a little further in, then pressed down. 

Nate's back arched and he let out a strangled moan. His head dropped between his hands and his back heaved with his breathing.

"Someday soon, I am going to fuck you so deep and so long, you won't even remember your own name," Brad said silkily, breath ghosting up Nate's back. He followed its trail with his tongue, moved in close so he could press his cock against the back of Nate's thigh. He stilled his finger in Nate's body, but didn't pull it out. 

Nate made a helpless noise. "Brad, _please_."

"Begging works," he murmured against Nate's skin. "C'mon, up." He urged Nate to straighten, then pressed himself all along Nate's back, nibbling at his shoulder. His free hand trailed lightly down his chest, then underwater to cover Nate's cock, where he was so very hard for him. Nate moaned. 

Brad rubbed himself against Nate's hip. Oh, yeah. He could get off this way. He took one of Nate's hands from the side and wrapped it, along with his own, around Nate's cock. "Fuck, yes," Nate gasped out at the feel of their clasped hands squeezing him.

Brad chuckled and started stroking, letting Nate set a hard and fast rhythm. When he was good and into it, he crooked the finger he still had inside Nate.

Nate's rhythm stuttered. He choked on the air and half-curled over himself, hand speeding. Brad went with it, pressing inside Nate rhythmically, thrusting his cock against Nate's hip every time he moved back to get more of Brad's hand. 

"That's it," Brad hissed against Nate's ear, nipping lightly as he crooked his finger again. "Come for me, Nate." Nate made a desperate sound high in his throat and then he was coming into both their fists as his body clenched around Brad's finger.

The thought of his cock surrounded by that heat sent something brilliant crashing through Brad. He groaned and thrust harder against Nate's hip. It wasn't long before he was coming, too, cock sliding deliciously against Nate's slick skin as he bit Nate's shoulder and moaned.

After, they both kind of slid sideways and settled onto the ledge, panting. Brad withdrew his finger; Nate grunted. Brad let his head drop onto the rounded headrest. Nate sprawled out beside him. Silence settled between them, mixed with crickets and the sound of the night. 

Eventually, Nate took a breath. "That thing before." 

Brad hmmed in answer because Nate really couldn't expect coherence, at least not for the next twenty minutes.

"The fucking me until I forget my name thing," he clarified, around a yawn. "We should do that. Later."

"Brilliant plan," Brad agreed. He heard the smugness in his own voice and flexed his toes, content.

Nate snorted and settled against him. "Later," Nate said again.

"Roger that."

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
